The Horcrux That Voldemort Never Made
by penwieldingkactus
Summary: Voldemort wished to make a horcrux of an object belonging to each of the four founders. What if Godric Gryffindor left more than his goblin-made sword? What if Godric Gryffindor also left behind a ring? A ring that became another horcrux Voldemort never made.


**A/N: The idea for this story came to me when I was reading a Chinese text about someone destroying a jade ring. I'm not really sure how that idea developed into this story, but I'm glad it did! My punctuation here isn't orthodox, because I'm experimenting with a new technique. Review and tell me whether you think it is effective! :) Enjoy!**

"Give. It. To. Me."

His voice was harsh and demanding.

"NO!"

My voice quavered.

"You love me, don't you? Why is it so hard, just to give me that one, little, ring? All you have to do, you know, is just open your hand."

His voice was once again soft and kind, the voice I'd become familiar with over the months. I relaxed slightly. This was the Tom I knew. Or was it? I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was afoot.

"I can't, Tom. You know that!"

"You can! You don't have to obey your ancestors, they're long gone. Just hand me Gryffindor's ring!"

He had the air of someone attempting to explain something painfully simple to a 5-year old.

"I wont let anything hurt you because of this!

Would he? I wasn't so sure anymore.

"But... It's been passed down in my family for generations! I c-c-couldn't just _give_ it to you.."

I whimpered, my resolve weakening.

Slowly, I closed my eyes, extending my fingers, revealing the simple gold band set with an enormous blood-red ruby. I felt cold fingers brush over mine- the ring was gone.

I saw his look-he did not try to hide it.

His eyes turned red, his expression manic. His oh-so handsome features suddenly appeared grotesque and snake-like. His eyes turned to slits, his skin stretched taunt over his high cheekbones. A wicked smile formed across his face.

A cold wind blew in, I shivered.

"Tom?"

I asked, tentatively.

I received no reply.

"Tom?"

I asked again, louder.

"You have served your purpose, silly girl. You were foolish and weak, too trusting. Now it is time for you to - disappear."

His voice was chilling, devoid of emotion.

I processed what he had told me. The handsome man - the gross monster, had TRICKED me. It was true, what he had said- I had been weak, I had been foolish. I had fallen for this cold-blooded creature, who clearly did not feel the same about me. I had been blinded by what I supposed was love, but couldn't really have been. Nobody could love _him. _

At that moment, I felt a completely foreign feeling rush over me. I couldn't describe it. Was it loathing? Hate?

No one played with ME. No one toyed with MY feelings. And HE was about to find out.

"Expelliarmus!"

His wand flew into my hand.

He barely noticed, his eyes glued to the ruby, as though mesmerized.

With a snap of his fingers, his wand was back in his hand.

"No! H-how? Wh-wha-WHAT?"

"I have power, my dear girl. More power than you could ever dream of. And soon, I shall be completely invincible!"

A fanatical laugh ricochetted round the room.

And suddenly, I felt terror as well. Then, desperation.

"NO! Didn't you know, Mr. Riddle? Didn't you know that Gryffindor placed a curse on the ring? That only a true descendant of his could own it? You're not one step closer to becoming immortal, Tommy. You're one step closer, to a final, painful, death."

I wasn't sure if this was actually true. Perhaps there was a curse? I didn't actually know. I just hoped that he believed me. It was worth a shot.

" Ahhhhh. You are determined that I shall not have it? I, Lord Voldemort? Learn my name, _darling._ Learn to fear it. I can have whatever I want, there won't be anyone in my way to stop me. Not you, not your pitiful ancestor. Godric Gryffindor is long dead, his only living descendant, you, are no match for me. Goodbye."

With an odd, whimsical smile, he raised his wand.

I saw a green jet of light shoot straight at me. A silent scream caught in my throat. I closed my eyes.

A minute later, I opened them. Had I _died?_

But no, I was still the same room as before, everything was in its place, but for two noticeable exceptions.

Tom- Lord Voldemort, I suppose- was gone.

And on the floor, blackened and burnt, lay Gryffindor's ring.

Harry Potter wasn't the only one who survived the killing curse.

And there was one more horcrux that Voldemort never made.


End file.
